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I can tell that they think we’re annoying when we invade their space. They step on us and sometimes spray watery stuff that kills a lot of the others—the ants— but it doesn’t stop us. We crawl through cracks and holes to get shelter from the scorching sun and nothing lures me more than the humans’ food. There was one food, though, that I remember more strongly than all the others.

It looked like a soft mountain and smelled of so many different things. When you first came upon it, the bottom of this food, to me, was hard but felt like it would break any moment. That part didn’t have much taste so I managed to make my way up to the top where the interesting and flavorful part was. I came upon this the mushy part of the food. It tasted okay but my attention was set on all the colors. There were brown, white, green and red liquids slowly running down the mountain and felt as if they would drown. As I made my way past the sauces, there were specs of red powder and purple pieces that made my eyes burn—my least favorite part. At the top there were yellow string-like pieces and green leaves. Each part tasted completely different and I wished so badly that I could eat this small mountain all at once like the humans did. Of all the individual flavors I tasted, I could only imagine what all of them would taste like together. It would be an explosion of flavor in my mouth.

Since the day I stumbled upon that food, I have only eaten sweet food unwillingly and it has become monotonous. I cannot scramble for random tasteless bits any longer. For Sev Puri—what I heard them call it—I would risk getting sprayed and stomped on any day.